Chapter Text
It was dusk at Kings Landing, the sun only just having set as merchants on the streets slowly started to pack away their wares, but the taverns began to fill and candles were lit in windows.
Sansa pulled her cloaks hood up as she made her way through these bustling streets, trying to keep a pace that didn't raise suspicion, but hurrying nonetheless. Her eyes darted all around her, at the people, at the buildings. The smells hit her too. Bad smells, good smells, spices from huge ceramic pots outside traders tents, fruits being carried in baskets past her, waste being dumped in the streets from second storey windows, stray cats winding their way down narrow alleys. She'd been in this city for so long, but she felt like she only truly knew the inside of her own room in the red keep and the same paths of the castle gardens.
She kept herself close to Shae, who led the way through the back streets. Sansa prayed she knew where she was going, she'd assured her the directions she'd gotten from a kitchen hand were easy enough to follow, but Sansa couldn't imagine how someone could navigate this city without living here all their life, the roads were that winding and knitted together. She must be glad for the narrow walkways and shadowed streets though, they had not past a single member of the city watch yet.
For a second Sansa let her fear grip her, but she tried to shake it away just as fast. No....no, she was not a slave to the Lannisters any longer. She stopped being a hostage as soon as she was wed. She was Lady Baelish now, and by law she belonged to her Lord husband. Neither Cersei, nor Joffrey, could dictate her life anymore.
Or at least that was the theory of it. She could not forget that her husband was a Lannister man. If Joffrey found her gone from the castle and ordered the gold cloaks to drag her back, would he even try to oppose them?
Sansa shuddered at the thought of Joffrey finding her empty chambers. She didn't know when he would go looking for her, he hadn't said, or if he even would at all. 'Perhaps' is the word he had used. She could still hear the gleeful malice in his voice as he'd gripped her arm too tightly. 'Perhaps I shall pay you a visit tonight, since I hear your husband will be out. I wonder, has he taught you any tricks yet? Whores tricks? ….no? Well, I guess I'll find out, won't I?'
It was naive of her to think the days of being shamed by the man she must call king were over, but she'd be damned if she let him have her now. This was the thought that had steeled her nerves as she'd spirited herself out of the castle, a sense of rebellion pounding in her chest as she chanted in her head 'I have every right to leave...I have every right...every right'. She chanted it fiercely, for it's what she would say to anyone who tried to send her back to the bed Joffrey wanted her waiting in.
“It should be up ahead, I think that's it” Shae said, and Sansa looked up.
It was larger than she imagined, though she had to admit she hadn't given much thought to what the outside of the place would look like. She didn't expect a brothel to have a balcony though.
Shae still walked ahead as they made their way to the door, past bawdy groups of men, and girls standing by, beckoning them in with low cut bodices and light hearted laughter. Sansa found herself faltering as she watched a man grab a women's ass roughly with both hands, and she laughed and pressed herself further against him, right there against the wall besides her. She turned away when she felt Shae grab her by the hand and pull her along.
There was a man in the entranceway, tucked away so that she almost didn't notice him, but as they made their way inside he blocked their path.
“Good evening ladies...” he said, tone not unkind, as he regarded them almost curiously “May I ask what has brought you here this evening?”
He was big and cast a large shadow in the dimming light. Sansa did not have to think of what to say, as Shae had already drawn herself up to the man, unflinching “This is Littlefingers brothel is it not?”
“Aye?”
“Then would you be kind enough to escort us to him, please?”
Her words were courteous but she delivered them sharply and without patience, as was Shae's usual way.
The man laughed “Lord Baelish doesn't just see girls off the street, he has enough workers as is. Come on. Off with you” he said, as a couple of men all but pushed their way past Sansa and Shae, wandering in easily with a nod to this blockade of a man.
“We don't want to work here, we are not whores looking for a job!” Shae said angrily as they were herded out.
“Please-” Sansa tried “You misunderstand, I'm here to see my husband! You must let me in to see him!” she said as she was led roughly by the arm.
“It is not my problem that your husband fucks whores, take that up with him after he leaves for the night”
“What? No, no my husband is-Ow, let go! Stop!”
“You get your hands off her!” Shae cried as they were both shoved out unceremoniously onto the street.
Sansa stumbled so badly she almost fell over, causing a few close by to jeer, and her face burned red. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, her mouth set in a thin line as she tried to sound as dignified as she could.
“I am Lady Sansa Baelish, and it would be in your best interest to allow me in to my Lord husbands establishment right now!”
There was a silence as she and the man locked eyes, and she could see his smug look falter.
“Well?” Shae pressed “Are you going to stand aside, or will Lady Sansa have to tell her husband about this tomorrow? I'm sure Lord Baelish would love to hear all about how hard you pushed her. I wonder if you left bruises?”
He did not look happy to let them in, but let them in he did.
Sansa and Shae were led through a gauze curtain, and the smell of incense and the sound of a harp reached them, the clatter from the streets fading as they ventured further inside.
Sansa took everything in. The tiled floors, the red lanterns, the nearly naked women and the men who had them in their laps. She was embarrassed to look, but there was not a way she could turn to avoid seeing them. A woman walked past her, completely nude but not for the golden chain that hung low on her hips, little medallions jingling as she stepped. There was a dark women, skin as black as ebony, who wore a brilliantly patterned cloak of silk that hung open at the front to bare all.
She caught Sansa's eye as she glanced up, and Sansa just as quickly glanced down. As they trailed through the low lit rooms she couldn't help but feel watched by more than a few eyes.
They reached what must have been Lord Baelish's office.
Petyr, Sansa reminded herself. It was weeks into their marriage and yet she was still un-accostumed to referring to him by his first name.
They were man and wife by name and law, but there was still a closeness they did not share. This lack made her chest tighten with worry as their guide wrapped his knuckles on the door. What if this was a burden on him, her coming here? Would he be irritated? Would he send her back? She must hope not.
There was a sound of a latch being released, and the heavy door swung open a crack. Petyr Baelish looked out and he did not look happy. A wealthily dressed man sat inside behind him, staring in curiosity at the interruption.
“If this is a matter that can wait..?” Petyr said pointedly, tone low and in check in light of his guest, but his look was fierce.
Sansa couldn't help but notice how this big, burly man, who stood a good foot taller than her husband, suddenly looked so meek, his voice faltering.
“I'm sorry, M'lord, but....well, your wife is here..” he trailed off, and at that Petyr swung the door open fully, and spotted Sansa standing sheepishly off to the side, Shae behind her.
His mouth gaped in a moments surprise, before he affixed a smile on his face “My Lady....” he said, clearly choosing his words carefully “Why, what an unexpected visit”
Sansa wasn't sure how much annoyance he might've been masking with his comment, so she dipped her head “I'm sorry if I'm interrupting, Husband. If I could simply have a moment of your time...if it suits you” she said formally.
Petyr regarded her for a moment, his expression un-readable “Of course, you know how much I cherish our moments together”
Sansa blushed pink. This was surely sarcasm, as she knew herself to be less than dutiful in her role as a wife. She could count the times she had actively attempted to spend time with him on one hand, and yet here she was, calling on him at an unreasonable hour in an unreasonable place, simply to suit her own self. Sansa was sure this was not lost on him. At least she had the decency to feel a slight pang of shame.
“-but if you would forgive me if I spend a moment longer with my friend here” he gestured inside to the man sat watching them, waiting “He's a particularly revered man, and we still have some business to discuss”
“Of course” Sansa said quickly “I did not mean to interrupt. I will wait for you at your leisure” she said, courtesy dictating her words.
Petyr nodded “Markas, show my Lady through to the gold room. See that she has everything she needs”
“Yes, M'lord”
Sansa breathed an uneasy sigh as soon as the door shut on them again, and her and Shae were once more led by the man she now knew was named Markas.
The gold room was named for it's tapestries that hung on the walls, and the matching silk of the bed linens and hangings, all gold, the hue of the room standing out against the predominantly red colour scheme of the rest of the building. The tapestries looked from a foreign country, as they were like nothing Sansa had seen in Kings landing before. The thread spun so it shone, with intricately embroidered cranes and flowers done in a hundred small stitches or blue and teal green and soft pink.
The bed was large, wide enough to fit six grown people either side, perhaps more. Hanging curtains dropped down from the higher than usual ceilings to surround it, mixed gauze and silk, and there were pillows upon pillows in all sorts of jewel colours littering the bed.
While Sansa took it all in, Shae strode over to pull back the sheets, inspecting them.
“This bed is un-used?” she asked bluntly.
Markas nodded “Ay. Reserved for only the specialist of guests, M'lady. It has not been touched in days, I promise you” he nodded at Sansa.
Sansa tried not to linger on the thought of what went on in a bed like this, even after the sheets may have been washed “Thank you, it's a lovely room”
“Are you in need of anything else?”
She was about to politely decline, before she thought on it for a second “Some wine would be nice”
There was no clock in this golden room, so Sansa could not know how much time passed, but it seemed agonisingly slow.
She had changed into her night shift, as she had come prepared for a night spent away, and Sansa sat with her feet up on the covers of the bed, a glass of wine in hand, even if she did not think much of the taste of the one Markas had brought to her.
“Do you think Joffrey would be looking for me right about now?” she asked, tracing patterns in the sheets.
“Maybe” Shae replied “But what can he do while you are here?”
“....get angry” she said after some time “I can't avoid him forever”
Shae looked at her sadly “You can try” but the words sounded weak, as if she didn't really believe them herself.
Sansa was not as much of a fool as she once had been, and she knew hope alone would not stop Joffrey from having her if that's what he wished, and as he was King, Sansa was aware of how little she could do about it too.
But that was why she was here. As she had sat in her chambers earlier this day, wringing her hands, deciding what she should do, she made her choice.
Perhaps Joffrey would have her one day, but it would not be today, and he would not take her maidenhead, because a maiden she still was.
A secret known only between her and her husband, Sansa's maidenhead was till in tact. She had meant to do her duty, she swear she had, as she'd been lead from her wedding ceremony she had been determined to get it over with. To do her duty. She had told herself there was no point delaying the inevitable.
She had not meant to cry as her new husband touched her.
As she was laid down on his bed and kissed with an unfamiliar mouth in the darkened room, the sob had simply escaped her. It was not just a sob at the loss of her innocence, or the fear of pain, it was about everything. How this was not the life she envisioned for herself. How she wished for home and her family. How little say she had in her life, how her choices were never her own.It had all just hit her and the tears fell of their own accord, and she found once she started she could not stop.....and her husband. Lord Baelish. He had pulled himself up above her, and even as she felt his hardness through his breeches, he had pulled back. There was little he said, but Sansa was thankful for that. He had simply let her cry.
After that night she had composed herself, as a lady should, and apologised. She had embarrassed herself, she knew, but Lord Baelish did not seem to take it to heart. He had told her he would wait for her to come to him, a move that had surprised her.
It had been weeks now and Sansa was sure he was regretting his words. She was taking advantage of his kindness by avoiding her duties as a wife, but in fairness she thought he should not have given her the choice. It was simply too easy to stay in separate beds, to stay a girl untouched and in denial, than to roll over and accept that she was now Lady Sansa Baelish, and this was the life they'd pressed upon her.
But as she had said, she could not run forever.
The door of the chamber creaked open, and Sansa looked up to see Petyr enter, their eyes locking immediately.
“My Lady?” he phrased it as a question as he stepped into the room.
Sansa put down her wine and sat up straight on the bed “My Lord” she said in stiff greeting.
He glanced at Shae and she took the hint, sliding off the bed and throwing one more glance over her shoulder before making her leave.
Sansa wanted him to speak first, but he left the silence too long she couldn't help but fill it, perhaps waiting for an explanation. She was not quite ready to give it “Again, I am sorry for intruding on your....affairs. I trust your business is done and that I did not hinder it at all?”
She could have sworn he almost laughed at that, the way his smile tugged at the corner of his mouth “Oh, yes, don't worry about that”
“I couldn't help but worry when I heard you say he was a revered man. I did not mean to embarrass you in front of-” and at this, Petyr actually did let out a laugh.
“Please, Darreth Bayle is many things, but revered is not one of them. I simply said that so the old man would overhear. Flattery is fast way to a dull minds money” he said languidly, choosing to sit himself on the edge of the plushly feathered mattress, where the size of the bed still left quite some distance between him and Sansa “He's a merchant, a rich one. Spices and what not, the best you can buy. He only arrived in Kings Landing yesterday, and he's looking to spend his coin here. Tells me he wants twenty girls to himself. Twenty, a ridiculous request, that's more than half the girls I have working in one night, and I doubt the old man could last through three”
Sansa nodded as he talked “You sent him away then?”
“Oh, no, no. I simply bartered a him down to a more reasonable number of ten, he will pay for them each in full and then some. An added tax, since I'm simply annoyed that there will be at least five girls with little to do, making money by sitting around while they wait their turn, with other customers ready to complain about the lack of girls out and available for themselves”
Sansa had never thought she would learn about the dynamic of running a brothel, but then again she'd never imagine even being in one either, and yet here she was.
“Now-” Petyr started slowly, as gazed at his little wife “Would you like to tell me what exactly it is that brought you here?” he said, an eyebrow raised “Believe me, this is no place for a Lady”
Sansa tried to think best on where to start.
“Joffrey” she said,unable to keep the mirth from her voice “He....he spoke to me today”
Petyr's smile left him “Did he?” he prompted.
“He would....he would disrespect the vows I have taken in the sept-” she started, not wanting to be crude, but he held up a hand to cut her off.
“I think I have an understanding of what you mean, sweetling. No need to go on”
Sansa was encouraged by the understanding in his voice “I didn't know where else to go, he'd get to me anywhere in the castle, and I knew you would be here and Shae asked a kitchen hand how to reach here and-”
“And you plan to live here from now on?”
“I...no. No, of course not, I just thought....for one night at least”
He clearly had the same thoughts as she did. She couldn't run from Joffrey forever.
Then Petyr sighed deeply “Of course you can stay here. I would not give you over to that monster, not with a willing hand”
Sansa felt jolted as she heard someone else refer to Joffrey as a monster. It was something very few dared utter out loud, and It pleased her to hear it.
“But Sweetling....you do understand that people will talk. A highborn lady visiting an establishment such as this...? There words will not be kind”
Sansa's gaze hardened “Let them talk as they wish. There words have never been that kind anyway”
He smiled at that, and rose from the bed “Well, let your stay be a comfortable one then. I hope the room is to your liking”
“Yes, it's beautiful” and she said it in earnest, running a hand over the silk of one of the pillows, playing with a golden tassel at its corner.
“Those are from Quarth” Petyr said “And the tapestries were brought here all the way from Yi Ti”
“The land across the Jade Sea?”
“The very same. I could find you some more, if you like them, to decorate your own chambers. They make them in all the colours you can imagine, just tell me what you'd prefer, and you'll have them”
A smile crept on Sansa's face at the offer “Tapestries or the pillows?”
“Either. Both. Whatever you wish for, my Lady”
She pondered, not wanting to sound greedy, but the idea of being spoiled took her. She had not had much of that from the Lannisters “Perhaps some pillows, just a few ...purples would be nice. Light shades, mauves”
Petyr came over to take her hand “Then purple pillows is what you will have, but why stop at just a few? You will have as many as your bed can fit, so many I'll lose you in them”
Sansa found herself smiling as he kissed her hand.
“But I won't keep you up with talk of pillows, I'm sure you'd prefer some rest” he said, taking his leave as he wandered to the door “Sleep easy, Sweetling”
Sansa watched him retreat and she gripped the pillow more tightly. No, he could not leave.
“You aren't staying?” she called after him.
Petyr paused, and turned, eyebrows raised a fraction “I had not planned too?”
Sansa's nerves grew under his gaze as he studied her “Is it because you have more business to attend to ...or...” she trailed off as he stepped closer, back towards the bed.
“Or I would simply assume you wished to sleep alone, as you have done the past month?” he said slowly.
She cast her eyes down. She was so sure about what she wanted, she'd made this decision as she'd winded through the street to come here, her mind made up about what she would do. Sansa had few choices in life that were her own, but she could choose who took her maidenhead, and she would make sure it would not be Joffrey.
“I....I would not mind if you stayed” she said, her eyes glancing up to meet Petyr's, and she found his eyes transfixed on her.
Surely he would know what she meant. She tried to convey it with her eyes, as she was not so sure on her words.
As he stepped around to the side of the bed, to stand over her where she sat, Sansa found his gaze was too much and dropped her head to look at the bed covers, but Petyr would not have that. He took a hand to tilt her jaw back up, to make her look him in the eyes again.
“You would have me spend the night with you, little wife?”
His voice was low and meaningful, and Sansa nodded resolutely, reaching up to thread her hand through his “Yes....husband”
He stroked her cheek, and she could feel the coldness of one of his rings glide over her skin, and then he leant his head down to kiss her.
Sansa rose up to her knees on the edge of the bed, allowing her to meet his lips better. It started chaste, as if he was waiting for her to pull back, expecting her too. Their lips only pressing together in light, testing kisses. Sansa found the nerve to let her hand wander to his chest, letting her hand run lightly over the front of his robe, and that was enough to spur him on. Petyr turned, his mouth slanted hungrily over hers, and Sansa felt his hand take her by the waist.
He didn't let it linger there, as he stroked down past her bottom and down the curve of her leg, to pick up the fabric of her night gown that pooled at her knees, so he could run his fingers back up her bare flesh. Teasingly light touches that made her gasp slightly, which he used as an opportunity to take her mouth with more need, his tongue pressing against her lips. Sansa could only think of how much wetter kisses were than she'd imagined, but she tentatively pushed back with her own tongue, finding a rhythm to work against him with.
Then Petyr pulled back, only enough so that he could look upon her again. He thread a hand through her long red hair.
“Well...I would have offered to buy you Quartheen pillows a long time ago if I knew this is the kind of response I would get”
Sansa could tell it was a jape from the way he wore his smile, but she still gave him a light push nonetheless, which only seemed to amuse him more. She didn't want him to think she could be bought.
“It isn't like that”
“Mm, then how is it, sweetling?” he said, moving his head to the crook of her neck, taking in the scent of her hair and pressing a small kiss to her neck.
'You are simply the lesser of two evils' she had a half mind to reply.
“You are my husband...” she said “This is....we're supposed too”
“Yes, but I was your husband three days ago, two weeks ago, a month ago, and you didn't come to me then, did you? What's changed? I'm curious” he pressed her with more kisses.
“Well...perhaps I am curious too” she said quietly.
“Curious?” Petyr echoed, his hand still rubbing below her gown, his hand beginning to creep up higher until he was massaging small circles at the flesh of her thigh “You've been thinking about this?”
Sansa nodded, and a rather smug look came to his face.
“And what exactly have you been thinking about, wont you tell me?”
She didn't know what to say, as she hadn't actually given it much thought at all, so she had no answer to give him. In truth Sansa had hoped this would all be a matter of lying back and letting him lead he way, for surely Petyr would know what he was doing, a man in his profession .He must just be playing with her at this point, as his hands crept higher and higher, and he pulled her tighter towards him. He must like seeing the blush that seared across her cheeks as she struggled for words.
The fact that the loss of her maidenhood seemed a game to him spurred Sansa on to make a bold move. She slid her hand down over the fabric of his robe until she felt the mound underneath, and she slowly and gently rubbed her palm across the length of him. She could feel him thick and hot through the fabric, and she hoped this answer of hers was enough for him. Petyr's sudden intake of breath and the slight shudder of his body told her it was.
He drew back from her a step and Sansa pulled back her hand as she watched him drop to he bed besides her. He took that same hand and moved to sit with his back against the pillows at the top of the bed, pulling Sansa gently to him.
“My little innocent wife” he murmured “Who would think you thought such wicked things..”
She slid across on her knees as he guided her to sit astride his lap, her thighs spread across him, wriggling her bottom ever so slightly to get comfortable. There was that same shudder from before, she thought. Sansa wetted her lips with her tongue, noticing how his eyes fixed on them as she did so, and wriggled slightly again, this time very much on purpose.
She could feel him, his hardness growing. He had been quite soft when she'd stroked across him with her hand, but now she could feel his cock pressing up beneath her. Petyr met her movements with his own, placing his hands as Sansa's small waist, helping form a small rhythm between them and their hips.
Sansa moved her hands to Petyr's chest, bracing herself against him as he leant back further into the pillows, and she rose up a little to rock her hips back and forth a little faster, as if she was riding him. The more she rode, and the more he grinded up against her, Sansa soon found a heat that started to spread through her lower half, and the realisation that this may be pleasurable yet. She stared to enjoy every time she felt the clear outline of Petyr's cock rub directly over her folds, even through the layers of fabric that still separated them. Little pants and gasps started to escape her lips as she worked herself over him, and as Sansa met his eyes, she saw Petyr's gaze was not as smug as it had been. Now his mouth hung open in a small gape, and his lids were heavy as he watched her and the rocking of her hips.
“Is this good?” she asked, tentatively “Do you like this?”
Petyr let out a low murmer “Yes....yes, you're doing very well. As well as I always thought you would ” he rasped.
Sansa couldn't help but give him a shy smile at the praise “So you have thought of me too? Like this, I mean?”
Petyr let out a sudden low laugh “The innocence you have sometimes, sweetling...to have a doubt in your head about how much I have thought of you in just such a position as this...” he said, trailing his hands down her thighs, clapping against them with a small smack, before gripping them more tightly “Yes....yes, I have thought of you more than it is wise to admit. About how you'd feel, how you'd smell...wether you had a flash of red between your legs, the same shade as your hair”
Sansa blushed “I do...” she answered, as demurely as a girl with a cock pressed beneath her bottom could.
“Oh, but if I could only see that sight” Petyr growled, his fingers twitching at the hem of her night gown “I say we make rid of this, don't you?”
Sansa breathed deeply as she bunched the material in her hands and pulled it up slowly over her head, first revealing her lean torso, letting the material drag it's way over her firm breasts. Smooth and white with little pink tips that hardened as they were bared to the cool night air of the chamber.
When she discarded it and swept the hair out of her face, she saw Petyr looking up at her with a kind of reverence.
“Surely I am the envy of every man in the seven kingdoms to have you in my lap like this” he said. It almost made Sansa laugh, but the way he breathed the words more than he spoke them, made her feel like they were not as empty as most of the courtesies she heard fall from his lips.
Of course his smirk quickly found him again, as his eyes cast downwards “And I see you have already forgone your small clothes for the evening?” he said, staring at the juncture between her thighs at the promised red curls.
“I didn't think them necessary....” she said over the calculated lack of modesty. She thought slipping them off as she changed was simply good planning, considering what she intended to do.
“As I would agree. Perhaps you shall stop wearing them all together. I can see you wandering through the castle gardens now, gown swishing around your legs as you walked, and no one who walked past the sweet young Sansa would guess that you were bare beneath your skirts”
“Lord Baelish, don't be indecent!”
“Girl, you are naked atop of me, and you expect me to be decent?” he moved his hands to cup under her ass “And how many times must I tell you to call me Petyr? Say It now for me. Petyr”
“Petyr” she repeated for him, but she let out a gasp as his hand dipped down the curve of her bottom, and Sansa felt a finger slip inside her in one quick moment.
“Say it again” he ordered, Sansa still reeling from the sudden sensation of feeling him inside of her. It had taken her by surprise and it had hurt.
“Petyr...?” she said, looking at him with questioning confusion. Surely twice was enough.
“Again” was all he said, his finger beginning to slip in and out of her, slowly getting her used to the feeling.
Sansa didn't know what game this was, but the feeling of her walls around him, noticing how easily his finger glided over her. She suddenly became aware of a wetness between her folds through the slick sound his fingers made as he dipped in and out, in and out.
“Petyr” she said, a shuddering whisper. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his other hand brush against her front, pressing down and moving in tight circles that set her nerves on end.
“Again. Keep saying my name” Petyr rasped as he worked her, now using two fingers to stretch her as she pushed against him, taking them deeper as he rubbed her clit.
She did not know the game but at least now she knew the rules. If she chanted his name she would feel more of this, the more than pleasant ache at her core, the small bursts of pleasure that seemed to burst from that one sensitive spot. The faster and harder he went, the harder and faster she chanted.
“Petyr...Petyr....Petyr!” she said, her breath becoming more ragged, the obscene sucking sounds of his fingers bothering her less and less as she lost herself to the feeling. She didn't even now it could feel like this, whatever this was, only that it kept feeling better and better and she wanted to keep going “Petyr, Petyr, Petyr!
Sansa was about to utter his name once more when she let out a yelp. Petyr had withdrawn his hands and pulled her forward, so that she almost toppled over as she was dragged up his torso. She was completely caught of guard as he raised her up and pressed her mound to his face, and then he began to lick. Long, thick strokes, narrow pointed thrusts. A swirling combination of both.
Sansa let out a weak moan, one she couldn't contain. He was mad to do such a thing, to kiss her down there. She'd never even heard of such a thing, oh, but it felt good. Good was not enough of a word for what she was feeling alongside the heat between her legs. Sansa didn't know what she was reaching for, only that she knew she was close.
She started to rock her clit against his tongue, taking her pleasure as she craved it, letting out a strangled sigh as she grinded her hips faster, her core so wet and warm. Petyr hands kept her held to him although she had no wish to pull away. Another stroke and a shudder hit her spine and her legs shook. It was almost excruciating, she was gasping, her back arching as she started to lose control.
She closed her eyes and cried out as it came to a crashing end, overwhelming her as she was pushed over the edge, losing herself to absolute pleasure.
It took her a second to come down from that high, and she slid off Petyr, her lower half feeling weak as she fell to his side.
When she saw that Petyr was not nearly as out as breath as her, Sansa also noted how he hadn't even removed his robe. He'd just seen all of her, and she hadn't seen a scrap of him. Not to mention how quiet he had suddenly become, eyes cast upwards to the ceiling. She could see a sheen across his chin. That was her, she thought.
The rush of intimacy fading, Sansa started to feel vaguely self conscious, and she pulled across a sheet to cover herself. How had she just acted? Crying out like that. Would anyone have heard her? She hadn't even thought in the moment, she had gotten to carried away and forgotten herself. Sansa dreaded to think that perhaps Shae had been just outside the door, or Markas. If they had heard her she would just die.
“So-” Petyr spoke after some time, breaking the silence “You seemed to like that”
Sansa murmured her yes. She thought it would be obvious, but clearly he wanted the confirmation. She was about to shoot back that he seemed to enjoy himself too, but then she thought about his clothed form, and how he hadn't even unlaced himself
“We.....we didn't have....do your fingers still count? My maidenhood is gone?”'
She was no expert, but Sansa knew the very basics of the act, and they definitely had not followed the script she had expected to play out. Petyr had taken her wildly off course.
“Well, I suppose if you want to be technical, you could argue that your still a maiden. A finger is hardly....there is definitely a difference, sweetling”
She suddenly felt quite disappointed with herself. She had not really done what she had come here to do.
Maybe Petyr sensed what she was feeling, as he drew her close “But there will be other nights, there is no need to rush. I don't plan on you staying a maid for that much longer either”
Sansa shifted to get comfortable, clutching satin sheets to her chest “I fear Joffrey has the same thoughts”
She could not see Petyr's face but his tone sounded sombre “But Joffrey has no idea you are still a maid, that is just between us. As far as they knew we were long ago consummated”
“It doesn't matter, even if he doesn't know he'd be the first to take me, I would” she said sharply.
As silence fell on them again, Sansa leant her head against the plush pillows and suddenly felt exhausted, and as the heat at her core had left her, a slight ache lingered behind.
She felt herself drifting off, being only vaguely aware of Petyr slipping off his rings to place on a bedside stand and mumbling words to her as he did so, though she only took parts of it in as sleep started to overcome her.
“Don't let Joffrey worry you too much, Sweetling.....- wedding coming up-.......-I'm sure you'll love the necklace I bought you-......-you must know I'd never let him hurt you-.....-not when your mine”